


The Issue With Tissues

by MagicMarker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, warning - excessive mention of mucus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMarker/pseuds/MagicMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“I smote cities til they ran red with blood.  I dragged the Righteous Man out of the Pit.  I stopped a goddamn apocalypse.  And I can’t keep my face from leaking."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Castiel gets a little more than he bargained for when Dean puts on "The Fox and the Hound."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Issue With Tissues

**Author's Note:**

> Thousand thousand thanks to themcgeek for her wonderful help beta-ing. Enjoy!

The music stopped, tension building as the dog moved in front of the man.  “Come on, Copper, git outta the way,” he said, gesturing with the shotgun.  The dog stood taller, defiantly defending the fox.  The man lowered the gun in defeat. “Well, come on boy, let’s go home.” 

As piano music swelled and the credits rolled, Castiel wrinkled his nose.  He relaxed and scrunched his face again and again, but nothing would make the odd, tingly pressure subside.  His vision blurred as his eyes began to water.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean smiled at him as if he found something amusing.

Cas pawed at his dripping nose.  “I—”  his voice broke.  Widening his eyes, he coughed and tried again but it was no use.  “I… Ugh!  What the—“

“Whoa, Cas, buddy, are you crying?” Dean teased gently, nudging Castiel with his shoulder.

“These are just fictional animals, why am I--” he pulled the snot back into his nose with a noisy snort, “—so why does my… Humans tear up as a reaction to physical or emotional pain, s-s-s-so what is… this is just a cartoon! A movie for children!”  He balled his fists in his lap and ducked his head before swiping his sweatshirt sleeve across his noseand eyes with a disgusted sigh.

“Ohhh hey, hey now.”  Dean cast a furtive glance toward the doorway, then gingerly scooted across the couch to place an arm around his shaking friend.  “It’s a nice story, I guess.  After all that time apart, they’re still best friends.”

“More than that!” Cas snuffled.  “Copper stood up to his master, his provider… Even after he was made to do horrible things!  He still protected his frie—” He stopped himself short, shaking his head sharply.  “It isn’t real, though, I don’t know why I care so much.” Cas snorted again but it was futile, his whole face was wet now.  His hands clenched into fists around the faded comforter he had cocooned himself in, and he pulled the lumpy blanket up around his ears, partially hiding his face.

Dean smiled sadly, silent for a long moment.  “Here, man,” he muttered, reaching past Castiel to grab the tissues.  The large pink flowers on the box looked garishly cheerful in the dim blue glow of the television screen.  The credits had ended and the DVD’s menu screen chirped the same forty-five seconds of score over and over.  Dean punched the “mute” button and pulled a tissue out of the box.  “Wipe that snot off your face, Cas, you’re a hot mess right now.”

One hand emerged from the pile of blanket to take the tissue and swipe it clumsily under his nose.  The fragile paper shredded under his fingers, sticking to his new stubble in tiny pills. “I do not think this is making it any better.”  Frowning, he balled up the remains of the tissue and snorted again, swallowing thickly.

Dean laughed gently and pulled another one out of the box.  “You have to _blow_ your nose, dude, stop sucking that shit back into your head.”  Castiel just blinked. “You know,” Dean added, “like when you’re sick?”

“I was an _angel_ of the _Lord_ , Dean, I have never been sick,” Cas grumbled, “though I suppose now I have that to look forward to as well.  Illness, hunger, crying at movies…” His brow furrowed as another hand emerged; he put the tissue up to his face and breathed out his nose.  The tissue fluttered weakly.

“Harder than that, man!” Dean shook his head. “You really _are_ a baby in a trench-coat.”

Cas glared. “I smote cities til they ran red with blood.  I dragged the Righteous Man out of the Pit.  I stopped a _goddamn apocalypse_.  And I can’t keep my face from leaking.”  This time he returned the tissue to his nose, took a deep breath and blew forcefully. When he brought his hands away from his face there were two holes in the tissue and mucus all over his hands.  He just closed his eyes again, wrinkling his nose and blinking furiously against that tingly pressure that returned in the front of his face and back of his throat.

“Oh man…” Dean pulled two more tissues out of the box and took Castiel’s hands in his.  Wiping the snot off the poor man’s palms, he sighed. “You have to fold it over so you don’t blow through it. Here, seal it with your hands on the sides of your nose…. Yeah, like that. There you go, now just wipe the last bit at the end.  Did that work better?” 

Cas nodded and folded the tissue over to blow his nose again.  “I just… Now my head hurts!  I’m crying over fictional animals and my head hurts and I don’t know how to blow my nose.”  Castiel shifted, his voice a deep sigh. “I’m useless now.” He crushed the used tissue and threw it as hard as he could towards the trash can.  The mucus-ridden tissue floated limply to the ground a foot before the edge of the bin. Castiel’s chin fell to his chest as he spat, “Just a baby in a trench-coat.” He folded his arms back inside the blanket and stuffed them under his chin, leaving only his downcast eyes visible above the folds.

“Hey now, don’t be like that.  Hey, I’m talking to you!  Cas, come on, you’re not useless.  So what if the ‘Fox and the Hound’ gets you all teary-eyed?  It’s a good story!  I’ve just seen it about a million times, that’s all.  You should see the way I get with ‘Lilo and Stitch.’  ‘Ohana means family,’ oh boy, gets me every time.” Dean touched Castiel’s knee and rubbed his thumb gently over the seam of his jeans.  “It’s just one more part of being human – stupidly strong empathy towards fictionalcharacters.”

“I don’t have anything in common with those animals.  Copper gets to go home.  I don’t.”  The slightly muffled words hung heavy in the air, and suddenly Dean was wishing for that chintzy DVD-menu music again.

“Cas…”

Castiel’s eyes looked even bluer rimmed with puffy red, and as he leveled that same steady stare across the couch, Dean could see the layer of sadness underneath.  He reached into the blankets, taking Cas’ face between his hands.  As he rolled a thumb across a tear-dampened cheekbone, he murmured, “This is your home.  We’re your family, okay?” He leaned over and pressed his lips to the other man’s brow, before dipping his chin, bumping foreheads to look Cas straight in the eye.“This is your home.  You belong with me.”

It took no effort at all for Cas to tilt his head just so, and press his lips to Dean’s.  As he pulled back he could see Dean’s lips forming a small ‘o’, his eyes like saucers.

After a long, long moment, Cas was forced to break away for another tissue.  This time blowing his nose produced a loud honking sound.  Cas looked startled, peering at the Kleenex curiously.  Dean blinked, and a grin slowly spread across his face, turning into a chuckle and building to full-on laughter.  He stood up and offered his hand, heedless of the vestiges of mucus upon his friend’s palms. “Come on, Cas, let’s wash your face and get a drink, and then we’ll watch something a little more upbeat.”

“Okay.” Cas took the outstretched hand and shed his comforter cocoon. He got to his feet and let Dean steer him towards the kitchen, yammering about how Adventure Time usually does the trick, until he starts thinking about fan theories that the show is just a series of Finn’s hallucinations to help him deal with the nuclear holocaust some of the landscape suggests. 

Dean continued to debate himself aloud about how anyway, Princess Bubblegum and Marceline the Vampire Queen totally belong together, so any episode with them in is gold, and maybe they could just stick to those ones. Castiel couldn’t help but smile on his way to the bathroom.  The tap water was cold against his face but it made him feel much better.  He dried his face and hands with a soft green towel, the opening sequence of the cartoon filtering under the crack in the door.  “The fun will never end, it’s Adventure Time!”

He wrapped himself back into his blanket on the couch, one hand free for the beer Dean handed him.   The bunker was no heaven, but it had blankets and beer and Kleenex and Netflix.  Settling into his spot on the couch, clinking his bottle against Dean’s, he just felt comfortable. Home indeed.

 


End file.
